Now, every block-busting tale of high adventure has to start somewhere, so where better to commence than at the beginning, and by that I mean the actual, genuine, real beginning. Are you ready for this? Okay then.....let's flash up the Time-Machine, put our Reeboks in the starting blocks and go "Through the Wormhole".
(Flashing Lights, Grinding noises, Spinning-spinning-spinning, weird camera effects, travelling faster than the speed of light - or a Devonport Dockyard Lagger when the knocking-off hooter fires up). Getting Travel sick? Sorry - I don't think that's possible, because seeing as you are hammering along at twice the speed of LIGHT, then obviously you can't spew up because you officially do not exist, so you cannot puke anyway. After all, you 'aint eaten anything to throw up, seeing as your entire family tree has not even come into existence yet and CARROTS are going to take at least another million years to evolve into the vegetable we all know and love. If you DO chunder inside this Time-Machine before we get to where we are going....then you will be solely responsible for tearing apart the entire fabric of the Space/Time Continium and fuck-all will exist whatsoever. Imagine that - merely by the simple act of a "Lumpy Cough", "Swamping", or, dare I say it, "Following Through", the infinite blackness of space and time will fold in on itself, suck everything inwards and vanish up its own Ring-Bolt. Professor Stephen Hawking never thought of that bastard did he?..........I call it *THE GRAND SLAM THEORY* (Patent pending).
You have been warned.
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(Cue incidental sci-fi music being played on a second-hand synthesiser)
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The Time-Machine is now alongside its destination. Leave will be piped shortly. Folks, welcome to the place where all the worlds woes started:

This is The Garden of Eden
Occupants: AB Adam and Wren Eve
Its 10:00 a.m. Monday, Day 1, Month 1, Year 1 (presumably).
Its Standeasy, and the shit is about to hit the fan.
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